#sorry this took me so long bb

[kitteqq]

would dopegirl like hatsune miku this has been on my mind for a while

yes. the answer is definitely yes thank u anon. shes on the computer all day im sure she can successfully get those miku concert tickets (that i can never get in time)

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

BODY BACK x Netflix

what if I... transported back to 2020 and made writeblr netflix edits for my book :)

Show summary: It’s 2005 in Las Vegas and Harrison is on a mission to move past a complicated breakup–and he’s come to the right place.

Episode 1 - Living Pictures: After a breakup leaves him destabilized, Harrison breaks into a wealthy couple’s backyard pool to decompress—only to be caught by the owners.

Episode 2 - Immaculate Mary: In need of a wake-up call, Harrison is confronted by his mother Suzanna who is hesitant to provide one.

Episode 3 - 24-Karat Harrison: After an argument with his mother draws him much too close to the past, Harrison turns to Jeremiah to help him develop a gilded persona.

Episode 4 - No Christ: When the effects of 24-Karat Harrison wear off, Harrison searches for even more reckless reprieve.

[silvery-bluish]

45 & 50 for Ars if you're still taking prompts? :3

Prompts are from here!!

Pardon me being a full TWO WEEKS late with this but here. u go. they both ran longer than i thought they would so we'll say that makes up for them being late.

Wordcount: 644 + 612

Contents: For 45-- Sidestep era, Ars has a fever the whole time. Themmy and Ricardo are there. To ground it vaguely in the timeline, this is post-Catfiend Incident (so after the start of the (not?)not dating situation) but prior to the nanosurge.

For 50-- chargeflystep with absolutely NO grounding in any specific canon spot. we just don't know. Just fluff!

45. Feeling their temperature

You can’t find him. You’re looking with your closed-eyes and your open-mind, stretched as far as you can go-and-farther, looking, turning minds over like rocks. Wrong wrong wrong none of these are right, you can’t find him, the shields are all wrong. You’re not supposed to lose him. You promised.

Everything’s— hazy-prickly uncomfortable, and you feel like you’ve— done this before, maybe, this searching. Deja vu like a too-small jacket. And you’re freezing, burrowing deeper into your hiding place. Can’t come out till you find him, or it’ll just be you versus the world—

A knock on the door. Nobody knocked except you-and-him-and-them, wide-flung focus contracting down to oh outside the door. Shake off the haze of half-sleep. 

Touchstone-smooth. Cool, like the underside of a rock that’s been baking in the sun. Right. Looking won’t do you any good, probably. You struggle out of the cocoon of blankets, no orange in sight you’re cold colder now but that’s Anathema at the door and you like Anathema so you should answer. 

Fumble with the locks. Click-click-clunk, clumsy-fingered now. Three tries to get the highest one unlocked. 

“You look like death warmed over,” Anathema says, once you’ve cracked the door enough to see them.

“Thanks,” you croak, voice thick. Take a step back so they can get through the door, and clunk-click-click the locks back into place. 

“We were worried,” Themmy says, “It’s been days. You could’ve said you weren’t feeling well,” and they were concerned, that you didn’t. 

“I’ll be fine,” you say. “It’s just the flu.” You think. 

They frown at you, bring a hand up to place it on your forehead. Cool and dry. Sense-echo similarity to their mind against yours.  “You’re burning up, Arsenic. Sit back down. Have you taken anything yet?”

You… let them shepherd you back to your daybed, re-bury you in blankets. They get you a cup of water once they realize nope, you don’t have any medicine around. Themmy has their phone out, glancing between it and you. “I’m going to ask Ortega to pick some stuff up,” they say. 

“Yeah, okay,” you say, even though he’s only been over here maybe a dozen times over the last couple years and it’s always felt more… precarious, to have Ortega in your space than it feels to have Themmy in your space. 

Slipping back into a doze is— easy, with their comforting presence nearby. Putzing around your little kitchen, getting themself a drink. You maybe lose some time. That’s okay, Themmy’s keeping an eye on it. 

And then more knocks to the door, nothing on the other side but quick-shifting static. Static didn’t usually knock either, but Ortega does. Sometimes. When he wants into your apartment, anyway. 

Anathema undoes the locks to let him in, and when you crack your eyes to peek at him he’s staring back at you. Worry, probably, if you’re reading the little frown and the knit of his brow right. “Gonna give yourself wrinkles,” you murmur, and he makes an offended noise, putting two bags down on your counter. 

“I bring you medicine and soup and you insult me?” he asks, all overblown-offended. “You sure they’re sick?”

Then he’s putting his hand to your forehead too, and wincing at the temperature he finds. He lingers a little longer than Themmy did, though, tucking a strand of your hair out of your face. “‘m fine,” you say, token protest none of you believe.

“Pull the other one,” he says, and you reach a hand out of your cocoon to yank, slightly, on the fabric of his pants, which wins a laugh.

It’s. Weird, letting them help you. You’d been resigned to just-- sleeping whatever this is off, like you’ve done before, but you’ve got your whatever-they are here, helping. Having your back. 

It’s a risk. And maybe it’s the fever talking, but you’ll take it.

50. putting a hand over the other’s mouth to shut them up

Neither of them has noticed you yet, quiet footsteps your default and no point changing that here. Plus, it’s fun to surprise other people, sometimes. When the stakes are low. 

“They asked me why I liked them, once,” Daniel says, “But they didn’t actually let me say anything.”

“Doesn’t surprise me,” Ricardo replies with a shrug. “They never did know what to do with complements.” Like they’re comparing notes. Or cheat codes. 

…odd. Normally, you wouldn’t like people talking about you, but this is. Weirdly fine. A little annoying because it means they’re conspiring, but not. Not bad-annoyed. Weird fond-annoyed. 

“It was a rhetorical question,” you say, and they both turn to look at you. 

“Bet they can’t get both of us to shut up,” Ricardo says, aside to Danny not to you, and whoops this was a mistake.

You can feel your face heating and neither of them has even said anything, Ricardo’s smug grin slowly being echoed by Daniel dammit. 

“Your eyes—“ and that’s enough of that, darting out to cover Daniel’s mouth mid-phrase and Ricardo’s mouth preemptively because you’ve got your fucking hands full, now, apparently. Literally and figuratively. 

The curve of Daniel’s smile broadening against your palm, and— yeah that’s entirely unsurprising, Ricardo licking your other palm. Shouldn’t have expected anything different.

Green eyes struck by light bright and beautiful/the slightest wrinkle to their nose from a secret laugh he’s always trying to catch/quick-jump analysis when they’re putting something together—

“Oh, that’s not fair,” you complain at Daniel, and he bursts into muffled laughter. A brief glance between the two of you, and Ricardo’s catching the skin over the ball of your thumb between his lips, gently, but present. And soggy. Ugh.

You know when you’re losing a fight, sometimes, making a face at both of them and wiping your hand on Ricardo’s shirt. “No,” you say, “We aren’t doing this.” Your face is still burning, the weight of attention and affection landing on you like a slightly-too-heavy coat. Comfortable now, but threatening to be too much.

“One complement?” Ricardo wheedles, and you scowl at him.

“Daniel got three in because he was cheating,” you admit, like pulling teeth. “Fair’s fair.”

“Telepathy is not cheating,” Daniel says, “I’m still communicating. You’re still listening.” And you’ll-- admit that too, yeah, tip of your head to acknowledge his win. You’re not really willing to do the telepathic equivalent of slapping your hand on his mouth and you don’t want to shutter your mind, so. Not really cheating, you suppose.

Ricardo pauses, for a second, lips pursing as he thinks. And then his eyes flick back to you, little tilt to his smile that means he’s got a plan. A plan he just came up with in the last ten seconds, but it’s still a plan.

“Your roundhouse kick is still a thing of beauty,” and that sparks a memory, just the two of you in his kitchen so long ago, both unsure but both trying something anyway, and you laugh, wheeze startled out of you. “And you’re always three steps ahead in a fight. Smartest person I know.”

“Chen’ll be offended,” you say, and he makes a pffff noise of dismissal. Smile still tugging the corners of your mouth.

“There’s that smile. Gorgeous, when you let me see it.” And there’s a seriousness to his tone, a fondness, that makes your face burn. Duck your head, a little, drop your eyes, to try and keep that weight of focus from getting too heavy.

“No more of that,” you say, but they’re both still grinning at you, even as you fold your arms. 

…you’re still fond-annoyed, not mad-annoyed. Weird.

[kazutakas-pinch]

this is an EXTREMELY late (literally years im so sorry AHH) giveaway prize for @tyqfullbuster ! they requested yuiji in the shinsengumi uniform which im not familiar with, but i hope you enjoy it!

i was so enamored with yuiji wearing traditional clothing that i painted a few more modern day color variations HAHA I drew a "realistic" version what i imagined yuiji would actually wear in the black color scheme and a fun floral and geometric version that someone else would have to pick for him.

[icecoldwilliams]

Brrzzt! A swarm of texts arrive in Nina's phone. The sender: one Polya Dragunova. They read:

[ hey queen it was nice meeting u for coffee that time. uh not to be awkward af but can I sculpt u sometime? ]

[ liek sculpting ur face in clay ]

[ I have finls coming up and u have a pretty face ]

[ okay no sorry that was cringe ]

[ nvm ]

[ uh ]

[ hope ur having a nice day ]

Sadistic curiosity is a fearsome quality. Reaching at times beyond the rational and the conscience to quench it's own thirst for knowledge. – And Sergei Dragunov was an interesting specimen whether under the knife or the bullet.

Two similar frigid fighters, two seemingly vastly different backgrounds. At first the casual meetings for coffee with his kin were just to fill in the gaps and string the cold operatives nerves, make him writhe. ; Figure out just what factored into the mutes own wicked demeanor.

But to say the least, this.... was an unexpected turn of events.

Whether unwelcome or not would later be determined along with the younger Dragunov's intentions.

[ Don't jump the gun, dear. ]

[ If you have no other plans, we can discuss on Bond tomorrow. ]

| @blizzardrush ✲・*:✲・*:･ﾟ

[nocentis]

let her kiss his brand...

He sees her in the way that bees see flowers; the way that leaves see sunshine.

╳┆Honey spilled over the horizon and painted the high tide. Gilded fingers twisted into the amber silks draped upon the throne of cloud, wrapped them up in their glittering palms, around their wrists, and the day's ruler hoisted themselves slowly to claim, leaving blood and syrup in their wake. Their white robes did little to shield their pride; their radiance. There was something to be said about that immeasurable beauty and the karmic toll of viewing it. The price of a look, one held long enough to truly see, was to surrender the gift of future sight. There was something to be said about the periphery. Something about those colors, that warmth, that marvel, and how maybe close enough should be good enough, and why couldn't it be? Something about the cost of love, something about moderation, and maybe something about the comfort of cowardice.

Winter and Spring began their waltz, slowly slinking ‘round and ‘round with fingers interlaced high above their heads, eyes locked in lovers’ snares. Winter, condemned to play the role of callousness; of indiscriminate reaping, and Spring, the tender, the nurturer, tasked with the labor of rebirth. They found their compromise in the snowdrop’s bloom; in its frozen dew. They found it in the chill of the morning and the warmth of the afternoon, in the cool breeze, in the jewel-toned sky and the first blades of grass yet bitten by frost.

It must’ve been love, he thought, for what else could compel the harsh hand of Winter, cold and cruel as it was, not to strike, but to dance? It must've been love, he thought, because when Winter slipped from her grasp, Spring, in her loneliness, would begin to weep. Beautiful things bloomed from her pain, and so her pain was expected, demanded again and again. It must've been love that drove Winter to destroy those sorrow-sewn fields so that Spring would come back to him comfortably, and so just for a little while, they could find peace together.

Today, they were dancing.

╳┆The swell in his chest shined through his broadened shoulders, the length of his neck, the lift of his chin. Still, the habit of treading brazenly, maskless, through stone-laid streets, was one he’d yet to pick up. His formal pardon hadn’t barred the eyes from prying, and it certainly hadn’t muted the whispers. If anything, they’d only grown louder, more opinionated, so he'd yet to find comfort in the breeze's naked palms.

The repetitive swish and clang of his garb and the thud of his armored boots against the cobbles were familiar enough to become mute to the mind, like absorbed by his black-bleeding subconscious. Gone with it, the songbird’s tune, the whistle of the breeze, the sway of the trees. But not today. No, today he heard it—the way the wind howled in harmony with the river’s steady rush, the beat of his own pace, the trill tittering above, the cheerful chatter of life—like it was his first time. In a way, he supposed it was. Every other time he’d walked this path, he’d walked it with closed eyes and wool-stuffed ears, in thrall to the rotten echoes of his own mind. But not today. No. Today, his chin held high, as his spirits did.

He must have looked every bit the manic fool that morning, sliding through the doors of the Fairy Tail guild at the first wink of sunlight, sporting that glued-on grin he'd still yet to unstick, with nothing more to present than a pair of mismatched daffodils and their attached note. Thankfully, Mirajane and her sister, Lisanna, were already in-house preparing for the day ahead, undoubtedly taking advantage of the peace and quiet of the empty hall while they still had the opportunity. Though naturally surprised to see him so elated, they were both pleasant in their greetings and eagerly agreed to deliver his message (though he was nearly certain they were teasing him about his intentions with their fair lady Erza).

His cheer was met equally and enthusiastically. Both sisters were practically teeming with glee by the time he turned to leave, giggling and covering their mouths like they knew something the rest of the world was yet privy to. While he found their giddiness puzzling, he surely welcomed the departure from gloom; from the doom-written reeds he so often dragged in. It was nice, he thought, to share weightless words, to have a laugh, to venture beyond Winter's shadow into the first light of Spring.

From there, he'd practically skipped to his next task. Never in so many years of travel had he received such bemused faces from passersby. He'd actually paused once to check his skin, just to make sure he wasn't actually glowing. Heaven knew how long it'd been since he felt something so carefree as genuine excitement. Long enough that he found it uncontainable. Long enough that it felt like sunshine in his chest, crawling up his throat, bursting through his teeth.

Mrs. Ito was no exception to the day's pleasantries. She'd always been kind in the short time he'd known her. Recently widowed, she decided she had too much house and not enough home, in her own words, so she moved in with her eldest son, his wife, and their children. He'd met with them all one evening for dinner (Mrs. Ito wanted to know to whom she was handing over her home), and even after stories were shared and intentions were laid, he was met gently with understanding smiles, warm hands holding his own, and Mrs. Ito's hushed, "It's time to go home, son."

When he arrived to pick up the keys—his keys to his house—she greeted him fondly, like they'd always known one another. Her son stood in the doorway as he exchanged the gift of home with a box of market candies, his smile slowly melting like he'd finally found the bitter side of sweet. He'd waved goodbye with a promise to visit again soon, but as he turned towards his new tomorrow, he missed the pinch in Mrs. Ito's brow and the tears that followed. He missed the shake of her shoulders as her son ushered her back inside and the red-rimmed eyes that lingered on his back.

His elation carried him through thinning streets and into the countryside. Horse-drawn carriages passed him by with blinders on, kicking up dust and bouncing rocks off their spokes as they went. The folks tending their land paused to spare him a sprinkler's glance. Just around the bend, there sat a humble brick house on a quaint piece of land. Its stone pathway stood out in the sparsely grown, mostly browned lawn, and it drew a path straight towards that painted-red front door. The very same one that he was now standing in front of, staring at.

The key poised betwixt his fingers had been left to steep in his pocketful of sunshine long enough for the heat to transfer, and now it was burning, blistering his skin, and it felt something like rejection. Like the soul of the land had its hands on his shoulders and was shoving him backward. Like he wasn't meant to be here. He was never meant to have this.

But he wasn't ready to give it up just yet.

He tapped the door with a single knuckle, just to see if it'd turn to ash. It held steady, materially, before him, just the same as it ever looked. Its bricks spoke no threat of crumble, its roof showed no sign of collapse, and yet none of it truly felt real. Even as his head bowed and his forehead pressed into that cool crimson, even as he traced the ridges of the keys in his palm, even then, he couldn't bring himself to believe it.

A moment of silent prayer. A deep, grounding breath. Eyes open, back straight, he finally found the will to turn the key. The door slowly creaked open, allowing light to pour in through the front door.

His lingering joy was a sweet wine on the brink of spoil, turned to vinegar in his gut. The morn's candied shell cracked between his teeth and its well-concealed bitterness flooded his tongue like it had been waiting for the opportunity all along. It leaked from the corners of his still-smiling mouth, even as his lips began to twitch; even as heat brimmed his eyes and tears threatened to spill. He stood in the doorway, still, watching the walls of that front room stretch higher and higher as the moment dragged on, like he was waiting for something—something like Karma—to come along and destroy it all, strip it all away; to take from him again, as he'd taken from so many others.

He forced himself to step inside, to turn, to close and lock the door behind himself.

And then it was quiet. Devastatingly so. Gone were the wind, the leaves, the birdsong and the horses' trot. Static rushed in to fill its place, skating rings around his ears, and his periphery began to blur, his chest to ache—oh, he felt ill, and the dam threatened to burst, and his throat tightened until he audibly choked. A hand rose to cup his neck, and another to cover his mouth, stifling his upward bubbling sob as heat rose to cloud his vision. He sunk to his knees as the first tears fell, crushed by the weight of overwhelm, one hand scratching helplessly against hardwood while the other heeled at his bleeding eyes.

How audacious could he be? Already living on borrowed breath, daring to walk the path of the benevolent man. Now he dared to seek normalcy for himself, to smile gleefully while so many still woke in a cold sweat, in terror, at the sight of him, and others would never wake at all. A sick joke. He hardly deserved a proper burial, much less a place to lay his head, and yet he wanted it still.

He turned and sat with his back pressed against the front door, and he tried to find comfort in the nothing. He tried to find comfort in the emptiness, the darkness, the hollow and desolate, but the shadows had autonomous hands. Those mangled fingers were rotten down to blackened bone and had mouths where their nails should've been, and they'd been picking at the threads of his mind's drawn curtain, picking, pulling, unspooling, until they made their hole big enough to climb through. When they finally reached him, they were dripping ink like blood, wrapped up in memories' silk that they used to bind him where he was.

How long had it been? He was a child when he'd last called a house like this his home, before the raid. If only his mother and father could see him now, what would they say? Would they smile? Would they cry? Would they be proud of their son, even to this day, with all years considered, and would they love him still? Would they hand their heads in shame, or would they lift their chins in disgust? He never got the chance to know them well enough to answer those questions with any certainty.

His head thumped against the wall, tears trailing unbidden as he stared through the ceiling. His breath shook as he exhaled, voice straining when he pleaded directly to God, "Please," his face curled inward and he nearly choked, "It's more than I deserve, but please, may I have this?"

But it wasn't God who'd condemned him. It wasn't God who'd damned his soul to roam, so God need not answer.

The silence was a swarm that eventually overtook the sounds of his wet misery. The numbness accompanying that insidious peace was a welcome shift. It gathered over his shoulders and draped from him, robe-like, as he finally rose from the floor, intent on washing his face.

A few short steps brought him to the bathroom. He blindly palmed at the wall until he found the switch. Light sprung from the top down, bathing the back of his hand as he turned on the sink. He let it run over his fingers until warm and watched years-old blood run off and stain the porcelain. The water he gathered in his palms was soon spilled over the flesh of his face and beyond his sleeves.

While the salt may have washed clean, the evidence of his deluge clung to the skin beneath his eyes and around his nose in Pollock pink. That much became obvious the very second he met his own glassy stare, though its juxtaposition to the hot iron's bite made its consequence seem all the more fleeting. The tips of his fingers idled against his still-dripping skin, at first tracing the risen path, then covering it. He tried to imagine what he might've looked like without it. Would he look more youthful? Would he look kind when he smiled? Would children be less afraid when he waved to them?

He supposed it didn't matter. The choice was never his to have. That glowing sunset crest lived inside of his eyelids, lurking there, daring him to blink. Within each lapse, he saw the devil's eyes. He saw split-curl smiles and broken teeth outlined in stolen blood. He heard the devil's laugh, shrill and gleeful and giddy, and felt its dank breath against his neck, and he felt its hands curling around his ankles, his wrists, his arms and legs, puncturing his skin with nails of obsidian glass, and he felt it climb onto his chest, crack his ribs, and he felt his face begin to sweat, even though he was so, so cold.

It was so, so cold. White cold. And he was awake. Wide-eyed, shocked mute. His skin shrieked as its moisture fled, and it began to peel away, to bubble and blister and burn—God, it burned, and the smell—

Knock-knock, knock!

His visitor's early arrival nearly sent him out of his skin. He quickly turned the water off and killed the light, and he hoped that his sorrows stayed in the drain depths where they belonged.

The door swung inward, and she was there, waiting patiently, graciously, for him like she always had. His breath turned to dust in his lungs.

In her hands, those inverted daffodils dressed in yellow and white, not a petal out of place. Gold spilled over her crown, revealing that halo he'd always known was there. The breeze tossed her scarlet flames about semblant of Venus, and rosey lips sat in their gentle curve, smiling softly at him, yet before they could split to spill a greeting, he'd already begun to pull her towards him. As he wrapped himself around her, his eyes began to burn again, and the second he felt her hand at his back, returning his embrace, he broke, and the tears spilled forth once more. His head fell to rest against her armored shoulder, and through the rain, he began to laugh.

She pulled away to view him at arms' length, mouth slightly parted as though a question had come to peer through her teeth. He wiped at his face with tremors in his hands, chuckling softly when Erza finally shoved out, "Tears?"

"It's silly, really," he holds up the keys, "I'm overwhelmed."

It didn't take her long to put it together.

Warmth graced his jaw with the weight of a whisper, so faint he'd thought surely that he'd imagined it. That is, until it struck again, soft and sweet against his cheek, beneath his eye, his forehead. His eyes blinked open as she sunk back to her heels, bashfully peering up at him through the veil of her lashes; waiting for him to do something, anything.

The raucous buzzing faded into a melodic hum like the swarm had finally found its queen.

His blood sang as it rushed red-hot through his shoulders, crawled up his neck, and began burning its way through the skin of his face. The ear-popping clarity of his thought-storm's sudden abandon left him staring mindlessly with eyes much too wide and jaw much too lax, narrowly remembering to breathe, until her shy expression began to melt into something more reminiscent of unease, like she was preparing to flee.

Perhaps a touch too quickly, he grabbed her hand, careful to keep his grip loose enough that she could pull away if she wanted. Slowly, surely, his opposite hand reached to tuck her hair behind her ear, and his palm cupped her cheek in a silent plea not to retreat from him. A silent plea to stay here, right here, in this moment, in his grasp, just a little while longer.

And she did. She stayed. She smiled gently, warmly. Her head fell to rest against his chest and she leaned into his sway. There, in the silence, they found their rhythm. They began to dance.

"Welcome home, Jellal." -------------------------------------------------------------------------- @mamorigami

[thegingergal]

for the character ask: Noted Waistcoat Model Steve Arnott

How I feel about this character: HIM!! He's Mess! He's Trauma! He's FASHION!! The narrative never gives him a Break (unless it's Breaking him)! Basically, everything I ever asked for!!!

All the people I ship romantically with this character: idk if i ship anyone with him romantically-- maybe Kate?? even tho I very much appreciate that the show doesn't ever really suggest they're anything BUT platonic. steve is so messy in his relationships, which, bro.

My non-romantic OTP for this character: Kate Fleming, lol. I have VERY complicated, complex, mercurial feelings about Them.

My unpopular opinion about this character: hmmm, i don't know if i have one? please hold.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: I wish that the show spent more time with Steve and Kate and was clearer about the precise nature of their relationship--like, they were JUST work buddies or RIDE OR DIE bros. S6 leans towards the later, some of the earlier seasons it's a little murkier. their dynamic is delightful and my kingdom for more time exploring that.

[healersadjust]

How is Aki's relationship with Estinien going currently?

It's apparent that, in the past, her emotional volatility and Estinien's lack of anything resembling tact, has proved to be an incendiary combination, but have they become closer over time? Or at least come to an understanding where they clash less?

Thank you so much for the ask!!!!! I’ve not been feeling too great so it took me a while, i also haven’t looked over this again since otherwise i will probably leave it in my drafts for another few weeks fhdjdjdjd. i’m sorry it took so long!!!!! thank you again!!!!

Aki is used to breaking things, not fixing them. Their relationship was awful for them both, and when she finally realized it, she wanted to fix it. But she was shocked when it wasn’t her who shattered what little they had left. Estinien ran off before she could even finish, and she was pissed about it. She was responsible for once and it burned her pretty bad.

For a few years after, Aki couldn’t stand even being in the same room as him. This worked out just fine, as he never seemed to stay long enough anyway. She stewed for a while, she’s not one to forgive and forget, so she had all this anger and hatred brewing. At the end of post stormblood, when Estinien saved her, she snapped at him when she woke up and saw him in her room. That marks when Estinien started to try to make up for things.

Aki was zipped to the First, and while she was gone, Estinien was roped into taking care of her shit on the source as we know ! The world waits for nobody. When Aki got back and discovered that Estinien was helping the Scions, she was shocked. Her mind didn’t change entirely, but she started questioning if he was still that person she hated.

Once returning to the Source with everyone, Aki had a lot of new fears and anxieties. During the events of Shadowbringers, she experienced a lot of loss and saw realities she had been blind to before. She got closer to death than she had ever been, and she saw the people closest to her nearly die as well. She was terrified of missing out on connections like she had before (she never got close with a lot of people who passed away early on in the game) and she was resolved to do something about it.

She was thankful when Estinien was finally ready to get his shit together. She pretty much hunted him down when she got the chance. She pretty much was willing to put them both in a “get along” shirt until it worked. Thankfully for her, it was as simple as talking to him that time.

Where they are now? Well, things get awkward when their previous relationship is mentioned. Things get really awkward when someone mentions the years of hiding from each other. But beyond that, they’re pretty okay friends! You can catch them brooding in the corner together from time to time. They get closer as time passes, and Aki is genuinely happy to get to spend time with him in 6.1!

[niicevibe]

i don't wanna fight for anymore perpetual calibers :')

[cabaretyun]

find a few pictures of your style of clothing then tag people to ship you with a kpop idol based on your style, and do the same (dollyji note: can be non-nct too and girls too bc yeah i like girls)

tagged by my favorite @guanana

tagging @neonacity @smileysuh & @sweetlemontart 

(you can disregard if u don’t feel like doing it hihi i need to interact with more moots since i have a lot of love to give and time) 

[frogioh]

"Last I checked, lil' doggos weren't allowed in the club. Unless someone brings you along, it's a no go. Sorry, I don't make the rules."

“I uh-“

Josephine thought for a moment, nothing really coming to her, but she definitely recognized this clown.

“Oh em gee!!! Fizzarolliiii!!! SUCH a big faaaan!”

She spoke in the weakest enthusiasm she could muster, her eyes darting behind Fizz for the target she had chased into the club. Her fist time in lust on a job on her own and she was already fuckin’ it all up.

[bahrbae]

when  curiosity  doesn't  kill  you,  other  external  factors  will  work  on  that.  this  barbie  was  supposed  to  end  up  in  california,  to  fix  the  problem,  but  little  did  she  knew  before  she  embarked  on  this  suicide  mission  that  nothing  will  go  according  to  plan.  weird  barbie  explicitly  told  her  :  drive  the  car,  row  the  boat,  fly  the  rocket,  ride  the  bike,  drive  the  van,  ride  a  snowmobile  and  finally  rollerskate  into  the  real  world.  pretty  simple,  actually.  in  theory,  that  is.  alas,  at  some  point  when  she  was  driving  the  van,  earth  quacked  beneath  her,  though  she  mistaken  it  for  a  van  problem  –  that  was  seismology  barbie's  field  of  expertise,  not  hers.  she  was  just  actress  barbie.  in  just  a  few  seconds,  she  landed  on  the  pavement,  knees  scratched  at  impact.  as  soon  as  she  batted  her  lashes  to  see  the  real  world,  anguish  takes  over  barbie's  frame  as  she  watches  in  horror  at  what  the  real  world  looks  like.

there's  thick  smoke  surrounding  the  area  and  somewhere  not  too  far  in  the  distance  something  seemed  to  burn.  everything  seemed  to  stay  still  :  time,  nature,  even  the  doll.  she  doesn't  know  how  to  react  at  first,  therefore  she  takes  a  few  to  take  in  all  that  she  sees  and  feels  and  experiences.  the  real  world  is  an  odd  place,  she  thinks  to  herself,  maybe  that's  why  i  had  to  come  here.  that  thought  alone  leaves  shivers  down  her  spine,  knowing  all  too  well  she  wasn't  some  superhero  ;  she  was  just  actress  barbie.  her  only  role  in  the  world  was  to  inspire  little  girls  that  they  can  become  actresses  too.  she  can't  save  the  world.  not  if  it's  set  ablaze  anyway.  the  picture  perfect  smile  upon  her  countenance  begins  to  fade  as  a  sentiment  started  to  dig  at  her  chest  –  must've  been  the  scorching  fire  nearby  reacting  with  the  plastic.  another  thing  to  worry  about.  but  barbie  can't  just  give  up,  she  hasn't  even  tried  to  do  anything  yet.  she  was  stuck  there,  in  the  middle  of  nowhere,  with  no  other  living  being  in  sight,  scared  at  what  she  was  seeing.  if  that  was  a  movie  set,  it  surely  was  realistic.

taking  a  deep  breath  –  and  quickly  coughing  it  back  out  –,  barbie  finally  moves  from  where  she  initially  landed.  one  step  after  another,  glancing  all  around  her.  she  was  looking  for  someone  (anyone)  that  could  help  clear  things  out  for  her.  she's  not  yet  aware  that  she  hasn't  completed  all  the  easy  steps  weird  barbie  has  told  her  ;  hopefully,  she'll  get  there,  at  some  point.  and  she  walks,  dragging  her  plastic  frame  forward,  away  from  the  source  of  warmth.  she's  glancing  around  the  houses,  but  all  lights  are  cut  out  –  the  residents  must  be  sleeping,  she  can't  disrupt  them.  and  she  walks.  it's  been  for  maybe  half  an  hour,  though  it  felt  like  forever  and  more  to  barbie,  until  she  finally  landed  her  eyes  upon  someone  in  the  distance.  she  jogs  towards  the  silhouette,  hope  twinkling  inside.

"  hi  there,  can  you  tell  me  what  happened?  "    ask  and  the  answer  shall  come  –  or  wait,  because  ken  will  always  show  up  to  the  rescue.  though  this  wasn't  barbieland.  and  ken  didn't  join  her.  she  shakes  her  head,  trying  to  brush  off  that  dreadful  thought  –  that  she's  alone  and  she  might  never  find  her  way  back  home  –  with  a  slight  smile  upon  her  visage to @shadowedvales.    "  because  this  world  seems  like  it's  falling  apart.  and  if  that's  the  case,  tell  me  what  can  i  do  to  save  it.  "    she's  confident  in  her  illusions,  but  she  has  to  start  somewhere.  losing  all  hope  would  be  like  admitting  defeat  before  even  trying.

[inkykeiji]

hi clari!!! its cupcake again, sorry it took me soooo long to get back to ya! but it was somethin about how they're the very glue that hold them together and how you were soo glad that they analyzed it that way. i think it might've mentioned bmb tomura and touya nii<33!! thank you so much for lookin, even if you can't find it! also i finished the flawless tomu one-shot and i LOVED!!!!! i kept squealing and giggling, m so excited to read the rest!! take care clari! <3

CUPCAKE I HAVE FINALLY FOUND THE ASK U WERE LOOKING FOR oh my god it's from 2021 hahaha but anyway!! i think this is what you were looking for! <33

EEEE thank u!!! i know this is from a while ago but!!! i’m still so happy you enjoyed it! <3 i’m finishing up flawless part two (finally haha) and i’m suuuper excited to share it with everyone c:

[rinhaler]

🥲👉🏾👈🏾I was gonna say could do Stepdadcest with Gojo ft your stepbrothers Sukuna and Yuji? Like you usually do "things" with Gojo but your stepbrothers are becoming really jealous cause they want some of you too. So it's like you're getting passed around-

(This is so embarrassing for me because I'm not usually into this type of thing but it's hot)

hi bb im sorry this took so long! ive been having a tough time irl and i found this req very challenging but i hope it's okay for you! thanks for sending it it was so yummy! (also pls never be embarrassed here it's v hot and i welcome it and you)

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, stepcest, running a train, multiple creampies, belly bulge, daddy!kink, fingering/rubbing, tit sucking, blood mention, slight degradation, praise, spanking, male masturbation.

words: 1.5k

“Sukuna!” you yell, doing all you can to wriggle away from him. But it’s hopeless. His cock splits you open as he effortlessly raises you up and down the length again and again until your brain turns to mush.

“You’re being too rough with her, dude.” Yuuji sighs, fingers rubbing your puffy clit as you’re bounced on your oldest brother’s length. “Am I right? Is it too much for you?” Yuuji asks, holding your chin carefully so that you can look at him.

You nod, biting your lip as you do your best to balance your body while Sukuna fucks up into you. He snarls, fucking harder when he notices your hips trying to meet his thrusts.

“S’that why you’re trying to get off on my cock? Hm? Look at you, getting off on your big brother like a little whore.” Sukuna teases, his fingers digging into your sides, nails piercing the skin hard enough to draw blood. “S’okay, don’t be embarrassed.”

Your face flushes with heat as you hear his lewd language, your eyes scrunching closed to shut out the humiliating situation you found yourself in. Yuuji looks up at you innocently, monitoring your facial expressions as he carries on teasing your clit. His face moves up your body, latching his lips around your tit and suckling without letting up on the sensitive bead between your folds.

“What’s going on in here?” you hear the all too familiar lilt of your stepfather’s voice as he enters the room. You gasp, humiliated that he’s caught the three of you in this predicament. You want to scream, hide, run away. Anything to leave your stepdad’s line of vision as he stares at you with an intensity you’ve never seen before.

Your brother’s barely register his presence. Sukuna’s thrusting shows no intention of slowing while Yuuji tries to pull you away from him.

“That’s enough, it’s my turn.” he tells him, pulling you away from his older sibling and pushing you down into the mattress. Your shoulder blades are flat against the bed as you stare up at him caging you in. “Don’t wanna hurt you… but I can’t wait.” he warns you, sliding his tip up and down your slippery flesh before pushing into you.

“Fuck.” you exhale, wet eyes blinking up at Yuuji as he starts to rock his hips.

“Stop it.” Satoru huffs, approaching you all coolly before cupping your face. “She’s only used to daddy…” beaming blue eyes bore down into your own as he monitors your facial expressions while Yuuji continues using you as his own little toy.

“’m s-sorry daddy—”

“Ah… enough of that. You made your choice. So let your brother’s finish what they started. Go on, Yuuji. Fill her up.” your stepfather commands, even going as far as to press his hand on Yuuji’s lower back and helping him grind into you.

It was no surprise to Gojo that Yuuji met his end quicker than he’d hoped. He knew he wasn’t a virgin but by no means experienced. And your step father is all too familiar with how your tight, petite cunt could bring a porn star to an instant ruin. Your little hole is akin to a siren luring sailors to their deaths after the promise of love for a lifetime, your warm heat is too much for Yuuji to withstand for too long.

And Sukuna teases him, embarrassing him as he grunts loudly and stuffs you full of cum. He doesn’t stop, though, his softening cock still humping into you again and again, overstimulating himself until he’s shuddering and close to tears. You mewl, cutely, as he kisses along your jaw and whispers sweet nothings against your neck.

“Say thank you to your brother.” your step father commands, smoothing your hair down whilst his eyes pierce your soul. You aren’t sure if you are thankful or if his demanding stare pulled the response from you, but you find yourself nodding and thanking your brother sweetly, kissing his lips as he slowly withdraws himself from you. “Now, Sukuna, how do you want her?”

Your eldest brother growls with a sinister smile. He doesn’t even bother to answer, flipping your exhausted body so that your ass is in the air and your face is in your pillows.

He slams his hips against you in one fell swoop, bottoming out in your gummy walls with no remorse. You aren’t sure he’ll last so long, either, considering he’d been fucking you for some time before Yuuji took over. But it hurts. God, it hurts. He’s a little bigger and slightly thicker than his younger brother, his tip relentlessly rams into your g-spot until your vision goes white.

“Stay with us, sweetheart. Stay with daddy.” Satoru whispers, pushing your tousled hair out of your face as he commands your focus again. You can barely look at him, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as your big brother fucks you so ruthlessly yet perfectly. “You’re doing good, kid. You’re gonna cum for us, yeah?” he smiles and you begin to moan.

Yuuji can’t help but play with himself as he hears your pretty moans. While Sukuna digs his fingers into the fat of your ass, spanking you as he tries to fuck himself into you at the deepest possible angle.

“F-Fuck, fuck—!” Sukuna pants, spilling a copious amount of cum inside of you alongside your other brothers. You were getting so full, and you feel so warm. But you know you’re not done. You still haven’t came and there’s only one man left.

“See, boys, this is why I don’t share.” Satoru speaks as he scoops you into his arms. You do your best to keep your brothers loads inside while your daddy pulls out his cock, it’s hard to do so when a simple tilt of his head tells you that he wants you to straddle him. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, daddy’ll take care of you…” he assures you. He spits on his hand, stroking his cock a few times before lining it up with your hole. You bite your lip as you lower yourself down.

“You look so pretty…” Yuuji smiles at you, his thumb rubbing your cheek briefly before withdrawing to watch how your dad stretches out your tight little cunt.

His hips rise and fall, the base of his cock and the fluffy white pubes stimulating your sticky clit again and again as your generous daddy does all of the work. The creamy ring forming is almost enough to make him blow his load in an instant. He can see how spent you are despite not cumming. How weary your body is after dealing with your clueless brothers for so long. But he’s here now, and he’ll always know how to best take care of you.

Yuuji and Sukuna can’t help but admire the way your tits bounce with each and every thrust you endure. They can see a stark difference in your pleasure, being with the most trusted man in your life who knows every ridge of your tight walls. They admire the way you moan so beautifully and unashamedly for your daddy. Whatever energy you lacked comes racing back to you as you ride him in search of your orgasm.

Satoru’s fingers dig into your hips, raising you up and down his length with an anticipating fervour, expecting you to crumble at any moment.

And you do.

You both do and you are practically screaming in a newly discovered pitch as your cunt clenches around your daddy. Sukuna spanks you, his palm stinging your flesh each time an expletive spills out of you. Words you have no hope of controlling or recalling as you lose your mind and body to your daddy.

And he fills you perfectly.

Ropes and ropes of cum filling your womb to the point there is a visible bulge. And he smirks. Still managing to rut into you as he moves you onto your back once again to show Yuuji and Sukuna your swollen tummy. He pulls out, carefully, a little spilling from you before pushing your legs up into your chest.

“Watch…” he looks at your brothers before all of their eyes focus in on your puffy pussy. His fingers splay across your stomach before slowly pressing down. He gasps, slightly, and your brothers eyes widen and fill with lust as all three of them watch the considerable amount of cum seeps out of your cute little hole like a leaking donut. “Oh, princess, you’re so gorgeous.” Satoru compliments you. You’d hide your face in embarrassment if you weren’t so tired.

“Adorable. She’s like our own personal cum dump.” Sukuna speaks, trying not to laugh but unable to hide the teasing smirk on his face.

All you can do is look at them. Feel them, inside and out. The feeling of their cum dripping out of you will be a memory that stays with you forever. And seeing their eyes raking all over you makes you feel so special. Of all of the girls in the world. All of the beautiful, perfect, experienced girls in the whole wide world, all three of them chose you.

Your daddy chose his daughter.

And your brother’s chose their sister.

All three of them couldn’t help but want to fuck you.

© 2023 rinitxshi

[lanadelnegan]

Hi I’m kinda shy about this one. So the reader has been traveling with dead city cowboy Negan for awhile and she’s liked him for a long time but she’s a virgin and she wants him to take it.

Don't be shy bb, I am a slutttt for dead city Negan. Basically, think of this as if you were in Ginny's shoes, but you're 18.

Our Little Cabin

Dead City!Negan x Reader

Warnings: smut, 18+, NSFW, virgin reader, vaginal sex, fingering, family death (reader's mom), reader seduces the hell out of negan, extreme age-gap (reader is 18, negan is 50ish), masturbating (both), masturbating in front of Negan while he refuses to touch you, daddy-kink, breeding kink, cuddling, pure filth

A/n: If you like slow burn, sexual tension and a "hard to get" daddy Negan, this one is for you. I promise one day I'll finally write a fic without daddy-kink, but today is not that day.

"Can we go home now, Negan? My legs hurt." I complain, dragging my feet lazily through the leaves.

He stops and sighs, resting his hands on his hips. I stop too and stare at him. That damn cowboy hat.. I swear he wears it just to tease me.. and it's working.

"Yeah, doll. Sun'll be going down soon anyway."

"Ugh thank god." My head falls back dramatically and he chuckles as we start our way back.

Negan took me under his wing a few months ago when some assholes attacked Oceanside, killing my family and everyone I know. I was lucky - if you wanna call it that - enough to escape. I ran into Negan in the woods and it's just been me and him ever since. I'm thankful for him, considering I never had a dad or father figure growing up. My mom was my best friend.. and now she's gone. But at least I have him.

I've grown attached to Negan over the recent months.. But something feels.. different lately. I'm not sure what suddenly changed over the last few weeks, but I've caught myself imagining things about him that I shouldn't. Even touching myself to the thought of him. I feel so guilty afterwards, but I can't stop. I've never been with anyone.. never kissed anyone.. never touched anyone. And my body is screaming at me for it. I can't even look at him anymore without imagining what he looks like under his clothes.

"Why're you so quiet, kid?" He glances at me as we walk.

Ugh, I hate it when he calls me kid.

I shrug. "Just thinkin'."

"About?"

"Doesn't matter." And I've convinced myself it doesn't. I'll never be with someone romantically, because for one.. it's the apocalypse. It's not like I have a school full of hot boys lined up ready to ask me to prom. Not that I'd give them a chance anyway. I'd probably be more into the teachers. And second, the man I want would never think of me that way.

"That's not true."

"You don't even know what I'm thinking, so how can you say that?"

"Anything you think about - worry about - matters to me, y/n. So, spill."

We finally make it back to our little cabin. We've been staying in it for awhile, stocking it with food and supplies. No one has found us yet.. It's kinda nice. But I won't get used to it. Because nothing good lasts forever.

I throw myself on the couch dramatically, as if our walk that we've done a hundred times now could've killed me.

"I don't know... I just, I feel like most kids - people - my age have already experienced more in life that I have."

"Like?"

"Sex." I blurt before I can stop myself. I look to Negan to see his reaction, but he's surprisingly not that alarmed. His eyebrows are raised as he studies me, probably more shocked that I actually had the balls to say that in front of him.

"Listen, I don't really feel comfortable doing the whole birds and bees talk with you."

My cheeks turn pink with embarrassment and I nod disappointedly.

"Sorry, it's just.. I - no one's really talked to me about it before. My mom said she would when I was ready.. but then she.. she.." I fight back the tears. I hate crying. You can't come across weak in the times we live in and I've been forced to be strong my entire life.

He looks at me finally and sighs, holding his arm out for me to come snuggle next to him. It's not the first time he's held me as I've cried over my mom. Won't be the last.

I bury my head in his chest, sniffling, as his hand rubs my back.

"Alright, kid. What do you wanna know?" He gives in, feeling sorry for me.

"Well, I know how it works, but I guess I just wanna know what it feels like." I feel him tense underneath me as he adjusts himself awkwardly.

"No boyfriends at Oceanside?"

"There were boys.. but none that I was interested in."

"You'll find someone when the time is right. You're still young."

"Well you don't have anyone, and you're.. not young."

"Jeez, kid. Thanks." He chuckles. "I did have someone. A few someone's actually. Lost them all to this cruel world." He admits and my heart hurts for him.

"Well, you have me now." I get more comfortable, laying my head in his lap and looking up at him. He shifts uncomfortably but eventually relaxes and even strokes my hair lightly.

"Yeah, I do. And nothing is going to happen to you. You're safe with me, doll." Butterflies swirl around in stomach, but I know he doesn't mean that in the way I wish he did. He sees me as a kid.. hell, as his kid. For a moment my heart sinks from jealously at the "someones" he mentioned. Lucky bitches.

"...Negan.. does it.. feel good?" I blush a little.

"Sex? .....Yeah, doll. It fucking feels good."

"Will you.. show me?" I stare up at him innocently and his hand abruptly stops stroking my hair.

He bends over, planting a kiss on my forehead. "Time for bed, darlin'." He pushes me gently up and off his lap before standing and heading to his room. The cabin is small but we each have our own rooms. His is the smaller one, right across from mine. He wanted me to have the bigger one.

I sit on the couch, feeling defeated and stupid. What was I thinking. I relax on the couch for a little longer, choosing to read a book to take my mind off what just happened. After an hour of barely keeping my eyes open, I close the book and head down the hall towards my room. I stop in front of Negan's door, peaking through the crack. He always leaves his door a few inches open just so he can hear if anything happens. My eyes widen when I notice the sheets are barely covering the lower half of his legs, revealing the rest of his body. His tan torso is exposed, showing his peppery chest hair, and his black boxers are low on his waist. I restrain myself from not jumping him right then.

I eventually make my way back to my room and change out of my clothes, throwing on some shorts and a tank top to sleep in. I can't get the image of Negan's body out of my head and find my hand slowly making its way towards my aching center once I'm finally in bed. I close my eyes, imaging Negan between my legs as I touch myself. I don't bother suppressing my moans, confident that Negan is fully asleep. "Mmm, Negan!" The sound of his name rolling off my tongue as I'm pleasuring myself brings me closer to the edge.

"Oh, Negan. Right there!" My door suddenly swings open and I snap my eyes open to see a worried Negan standing in my doorway.. still in his boxers. My hand flies out of my shorts and I throw the sheets over me.

"Oh my god, can you knock?!"

"I - you yelled for me." He says flustered. I notice the way his face reddens when he realizes what I was doing.

I gently pull the covers off me again and spread my legs a little.

"What are you doing, y/n?" He stands in front of me at the doorway, refusing to look at anything other than my eyes. That's okay.. I bet I can make him look at me down there. I like the challenge.

"What's it look like?" My bite the tip of my finger seductively at him before sliding my shorts to the side, completely revealing my pussy to him.

He glances down with a serious look across his face, like he can't believe I'm doing this. And neither can I. This is so unlike me, but I'm so desperate for him I don't even know how to control myself anymore.

The fact that he's still watching encourages me to continue. I use one hand to pull my shorts to the side and the other to slowly slide a finger through my wet slit. "I just wanna know what it feels like, daddy."

I study him closely, noticing the way his jaw ticks at the nickname. My eyes travel lower and I see his bulge through his boxers. It looks so big, but I'd be determined to make it fit no matter what.

My finger dips inside of me and I arch my back a little and moan, putting on a show for him. He stands with his back against the wall, refusing to move.

I start rubbing my clit slowly and get frustrated when he still isn't reacting. "Negan, please touch me."

He rubs a hand down his face with frustration. "Goddamn it, y/n."

"I just.. I need you. Please." I cringe at my desperate attempt to have him touch me. I need this man so bad it's embarrassing.

"I can't, baby."

"But you like watching me, don't you?"

I take it as a yes when he doesn't say anything and that's all I need before pushing myself over the edge. "Negan!" I cry out as my orgasm rushes through me. Even in the dark, I can see the lust burning through his eyes.

"Go to bed, y/n." He demands but I'm unable to read his tone. Is he mad, proud, annoyed?

I fall asleep at the thought of him giving in and touching me. Maybe if I think hard enough, I'll manifest it.. I heard that shit really works.

Negan's POV:

That girl is gonna be the fucking death of me.

She's been so flirty with me lately and I've been trying to ignore it. But fuck if she's not making it hard. Literally.. I'm hard as a fucking rock right now.

I refuse to touch my dick while thinking about her. She's thirty-fucking-three years younger than me for fuck's sake.

She's confused. She doesn't want me, and she damn sure isn't getting me. Apocalypse or not, it's still fucking wrong.

I drag a hand down my face and sigh. I shouldn't have watched her, but I couldn't look away. She flashed her fucking pussy right in my face and I just stood there.. watching her. Fuck me.

My dick is throbbing and I know I won't be able to sleep until I get some relief. "Fuck it."

I pull myself out of my boxers and immediately start stroking my dick. I think about anything but.. her. Fuck.. y/n. That pretty little wet pussy dripping right in front of me. The way she said my name when she came.

"Ahh, fuuuck. Y/n, fuck." I cum hard and fast and immediately regret it afterwards. Fuck is wrong with me.

I can't - and I won't let myself think about her like that again.

Y/n's POV:

I wake up before Negan and decide to read my book some more in the living room. It's a romance novel that I found one day in an abandoned car. I've read it four times already, but it seems to be the only romance I'll ever get in life, so why the fuck not.

"Morning, sunshine." Negan says sleepily as he walks towards the kitchen next to the living room. He grabs a handful of berries we picked yesterday and tosses them in his mouth before making me a cup full and putting them down next to me.

"Morning. Thanks." I say without looking at him.

He sits on the couch next to me. "You wanna talk about last night?"

My cheeks redden. "Nope."

"Okay, then I will." Great, here comes the lecture. "Y/n, I shouldn't have watched you. We both know that. But, I think you're just confused. It's just been the two of us for months now and you're all young and.. fucking horny and shit. But, us? It can't happen."

I stay silent, pretending to read my book.

"Seriously? The silent treatment? You sure did have a lot to say last night."

I remain stubbornly quiet, popping a handful of berries in my mouth.

"Y/n, I don't understand why you're upset right now. Talk to me."

"I'm not upset." I snap. "I'm embarrassed.. humiliated. I was stupid to think you'd ever be into me."

He sighs and I see his head drop out of the corner of my eye. "Darlin', if I was your age, I'd be all fucking over you. Trust me. Please don't be embarrassed, okay? You are hot as shit and any man your age would be lucky to have you. We can forget it happened if that's what you want." He holds his arm out again, and like always, I snuggle into him.

"I don't want to forget." My hand rests against his white t-shirt and I want so badly to slide underneath it and run my fingers through is tummy hair.

A moment of silence goes by before he finally whispers. "Me neither, doll."

I look up at him, my face dangerously close to his. "I love you, Negan."

His hand reaches up to caress my face as if he's scared to hurt me. "I love you too, baby... Just not like that."

He wipes the tear that falls from my cheek and my heart shatters in my chest.

One month later...

My feelings for Negan haven't faded; I'm just better at not showing them. We've been more touchier than usual... cuddling on the couch, holding hands when we walk, but nothing "inappropriate." We also haven't mentioned that night. It's like it never happened, which still hurts when I think about it.

I get done bathing myself off after dinner and slip into my usual sleepwear before crashing to the bed and pulling my book from the nightstand. I could quote every line in it by now.

I start to drift off right before a loud boom hits right outside my window, following a bright flash of lightning. I try to fall asleep, but every time I doze off, another loud boom jolts me awake. I toss and turn for an hour before deciding to do something I know I shouldn't.

I crack Negan's door open slowly, trying not to wake him and gently slip into bed next to him. I also may or may not have taken my sleep shorts off, leaving me in just my pink panties and black tank top. I ease underneath the covers and lay facing him. He's usually a light sleeper, so between the thunder and me sneaking into his bed, I'm surprised he's not awake.

I'm completely still for a good ten minutes, making sure he's still sound asleep before I make any movements. When he lets out a little snore, I slowly slide the blanket down off of him. I imagine myself reaching over and running my fingers through his thick chest hair. I keep sliding the covers down further and further, careful not to wake him, until I get to just below the waistband of his boxers. My eyes trail from the deep v in his abdomen to the black hairs peaking above his underwear and I let myself imagine what it would be like to touch him right now.. to slide my hand down his boxers and feel him. I've wondered how big he is for so long.. trying to steal glimpses of him through his pants when he walks, or catch him with the covers down while he's sleeping.

I decide to pull the covers slightly further down and my mouth gapes open at the sight. He's hard.. so hard that I can see the outline of him through his boxers as it threatens to poke through his underwear. My mouth waters at his size and I know if he ever put it in me, it would definitely hurt like hell.

After I've stared at it long enough to feel like a total creep, my eyes travel back up his body and I almost yelp when I see his head is slightly turned and his eyes are watching me curiously, as if he's been waiting for me to make a move.

"I - uh.. The thunder.. I got scared." I explain.

"Nice try, kid. Go back to bed."

"Negan, please. Just let me sleep here. Nothing weird, I just.. don't wanna be alone."

He sighs and that alone tells me he's going to let me. I hide my excitement as I turn over, facing away from him and snuggling into the covers. They smell like him.. musk and leather.. and the scent makes me practically feral. He's still on his back, but my ass is barely touching his side. It's hardly anything, and it's not like we haven't cuddled before, but the thought of my ass so close to him sets my insides on fire.

Another lightning strike hits outside his window this time and I flinch a little, not purposely meaning for my ass to press into him even more. He doesn't react and I wonder if he's already asleep.

"Negan...?" I say softly.

"Hm?"

"Will you hold me?"

"Y/n, you are seriously pushing it. Go to sleep."

a few minutes go by before another boom echoes in the distance and I jump a little again.

He sighs heavily and turns over, draping his arm over my waist and pressing his body firmly against mine. His dick is pressed against my ass, but it's not as hard anymore... and that hurts a little.

"Go to fucking sleep."

I hold his hand tightly against my lower stomach and embrace this moment with him. I want him so bad that I can literally feel my vagina throbbing. If it could speak, it would be meowing like a cat in heat right now. I close my eyes and imagine him sliding in me from behind. I get a little too lost in the thought and accidentally arch a little, grinding my ass further into him. I feel him grow to full length against me and the feeling is enough for me to squeeze my legs together, desperate for some pressure down there.

"Where the fuck are your shorts?" He says in a deep and sleepy voice.

I giggle as he breathes heavily into my neck before whispering again.

"What the hell am I gonna do with you, baby?"

"Touch me?"

"I'm already touching you, y/n. My fucking dick is basically between your ass cheeks."

"Not yet.. my panties are in the way." I slip my panties off my legs smoothly and discard them on the floor.

"Y/n." He warns but before he can tell me no, I'm bare from the waist down and pressing my ass back against him.

"Trying to give this old man a heart attack?" He chuckles deeply.

"I can try harder than that if you want me to." I tease.

"Fuck, baby. Go to sleep before I do something we'll both regret."

"Like what?"

"...Like pound that pussy so fucking good you'll never think about another man's cock but mine."

"If you love me, wouldn't you want to be the one to give that to me for the first time? Wouldn't you rather it be you than some asshole who doesn't care about me."

He doesn't answer, so I keep pressing him. I place my hand back on top of his resting against my stomach and slowly slide it lower towards my aching center.

"Don't start something you can't finish, darlin'."

"Oh, I'm very determined to finish." I spread my legs apart slightly to guide his hand over my wet center. His middle finger easily slides between my slippery folds and we both moan at the feeling.

"Goddamn. Fucking dripping for daddy. He growls in my ear before leaning up a little and pressing his lips to my neck from behind. I move my hand from his, letting him take control - finally.

His finger moves back and forth between my wet slit, gliding over my clit every few seconds and making me moan each time. His other hand slips under me and up to my neck, gently squeezing my throat.

"This what you wanted, baby?" He breathes in my ear and chills spread over every inch of my skin.

I nod quickly as I feel my orgasm build from just his light touch. He hasn't even put a finger in me and I'm already on the verge of tears.

As soon as his finger rubs tiny circles over my clit, I lose it.. moaning out for him.

"Thaaat's it, cum for daddy, babygirl."

"Negan!" I scream out as his hand goes from my neck to my mouth, muffling the sound.

"Don't need the dead hearing us, doll."

He kisses my neck once I've soaked his fingers and then brings them to his mouth.

"Mmm, fuck, this pussy tastes so good I might have to eat it everyday."

I turn around in his arms to face him. My hand goes up to hold his face and my fingers play with his gray hair. He kisses my forehead before meeting my gaze.

"This is so wrong, baby." He strokes my cheek gently.

"Can't be wrong if it feels this good."

He tilts my chin up to press his lips against mine. It's so much better than I ever imagined. He knows exactly what he's doing, and even though I've never kissed anyone, he takes the lead and I'm thankful for it. I moan into his mouth when he deepens the kiss, his hand gripping the back of my neck now. The feeling of is tongue in my mouth makes me clench my legs again, and I think he notices because his hand on my neck travels lower until it reaches the back of my thigh. He lifts my leg over his and his hand slides to my ass, squeezing lightly before his long fingers tease my entrance from behind.

His dick is pressed into me painfully and I can't wait any longer. I need to touch him. Feel him inside me.

I reach my hand inside his boxers and pull out his big, hard cock. I try looking at it under the covers between us.

"You've never seen a dick before, doll?"

I shake my head no and admire him. It's so perfect.

He closes his eyes as I stroke it. "Fuck. So innocent, baby."

He kisses my neck while I pull on him even more. "You sure you want this, baby?"

I nod. "Yes, please. I've been wanting this for so long, Negan."

He lines himself up at my opening, my leg still draped over his so that he's in between my legs.

"Once we do this, you're mine darlin'."

"I'm already yours."

That's all he needs to hear to finally push the tip past my opening. I've never had anything inside of me other than a finger, and the feeling of his thick head pushing through me and stretching my walls has my mouth falling open.

"Tell me to stop, baby."

"No, keep going. Please." I beg.

He slides deeper and deeper until he's buried inside me completely. He stays still, letting me adjust. and kisses me through the pain. A pain that feels so good. I kiss him back hard, scratching his back while grinding my waist pathetically against him repeatedly. I moan in his ear and give him the go ahead to start moving. He fucks me deep and slow at first, letting me get used to him.

"So fucking tight baby."

He growls in my ear and vibration of his deep voice sends chills through me again until my pussy flutters around him.

"Holy fuck, doll. Do that again."

I squeeze my cunt around him again and he lets out the hottest moan I've ever heard. Not that I've heard a man moan before, but I just know that his are the hottest.

"I won't last if you keep doing that, baby." He warns and the thought of him shooting his load inside me has my head spinning.

After a few more thrusts that have my eyes rolling to the back of my head, I feel myself reaching my orgasm again and hold him against me so I can grind against him and ride it out.

"Negan, Negan, oh my god.” I breathe out as I push myself so hard against him that my clit rubs against his pubic bone creating the friction I need to send me over the edge.

"Goddamn." He thrusts into me faster and harder. "Gonna make me fucking cum already, baby." He tries to pull out but you tighten your leg around him so he can't pull away.

"Cum in me, Negan. Please." I cry desperately. "I love you. I want all of you."

He kisses me hard before his hips come to a halt. He practically yells out when he shoots his load deep inside me. "Ah, fuck! Babyyy."

The sound of Negan cumming is even hotter than his moaning from earlier - I didn't think it could get any better but holy shit. We're both a tangled, sweaty mess while our hearts beat out of our chest.

We eventually fall asleep with our lips still touching and his softening dick still inside me.

I don't even worry about the possibility of what could happen in the future.. I know I'm safe with Negan.. Here in our little cabin. He gently strokes my hair as we drift back off to sleep.

BOOM. The thunder crashes outside again, but this time I don't even flinch.

"You're not scared of thunder, are you, doll?"

I smile against his chest. "...No."

The End.

Brb, going to take an ice bath.

[misshoneyimhome]

If you’re willing to write for jack Hughes, maybe something like he & the reader are friends & he finds out that she’s never “finished” (like she’s not a virgin, but she just never finished while having sex), and so he wants to help her out?

Maybe you can add like him liking her before this already, but it doesn’t matter :)

Alrighty bb! I'm so sorry it took so long for me to write this, but it's my first time writing about Jack Hughes, so it took a bit longer than usual 😉 Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy it 🤍 Happy New Year to all Jack H. lovers out there 🥂

[So, apparently, I find it a bit difficult to write about slow sex 🙈]

Warnings; smut 18+; fingering; protected sex (p in v);

Word count; 3.2K

[bestfriend!Jack x reader]

・✶ ｡ﾟ

What's your name? (what's your name?) Who's your daddy? (who's your daddy?) Is he rich, is he rich like me? Has he taken any time To show, to show you what you need to live?

Time of the season - Zombie

**

"Have you decided on a movie?" Jack called from the kitchen while wrapping up the popcorn.

"Yeah, all set here," you hollered back. "Just waiting on the snacks."

"Okay, I'm here now," Jack hurried over with a chuckle as you were already settled on the sofa, patiently waiting for him.

It was a typical evening spent with your good friend Jack Hughes, a bit of a tradition whenever he returned from a road trip with the New Jersey Devils.

This pattern started off a few months back when Jack had first texted you on his way home, feeling a bit down after some games resulting in losses on the road. And realising how much it affected him, you spent the next day brainstorming ways to cheer him up.

That's when the idea of a movie night came about. The goal was to find a classic, light-hearted comedy that could take Jack's mind off things. And it seemed to do the trick.

And ever since that night, after every road trip, you and Jack would meet up (no matter wins or loses), watch a movie, and then spend the night chatting about pretty much anything and everything.

If he wanted to talk about the trip, you'd talk about that. Or if he needed a diversion from hockey, then that's exactly what you'd provide.

That's just how your friendship worked - calm, laid-back, and straightforward.

With Jack, you felt like there wasn't much you couldn't discuss. Well, perhaps there were a few personal matters you'd never broached with your close friend. However, it never seemed to be an issue. 

Though, on this particular evening, during the movie, your phone lit up with a text from your girlfriend, sparking a somewhat sensitive topic to your conversation.

"I swear! This guy is the one 😱 five orgasms tonight babe - I think I’m in love!!"

A smile crept onto your face as you read the message.

It was from one of your best friends, out on a date with a new Tinder match, which was somewhat a weekly ritual for her, yet this time it seemed she'd finally met someone who could meet her rather demanding needs.

"What's so funny?" Jack asked, noticing your smile and focused attention on your phone.

"Oh, it's nothing," you casually responded.

"Come on, tell me - it's clearly something amusing," your friend prodded, as his curiosity piqued.

"It's just Mel, she's on another date," you said, flashing a soft smile as you showed Jack the message, causing his eyes to widen a bit.

"Wow, sounds like she's having quite a night," Jack chuckled lightly.

"Yeah, I suppose," you shrugged, darting your eyes between the movie playing on the TV and your phone, trying to evade Jack's gaze and the topic a bit. However, Jack seemed intent on delving further into the matter.

"Well, I mean, five orgasms in one go, that's quite something," he chuckled lightly. "Depends on the person, of course."

But you found yourself biting your lip, feeling a bit out of your depth with the subject.

"I, um... I guess..." you mumbled nervously. "I mean, I... I wouldn't really know," you softly admitted, staring at your phone in your hand.

"What?" Jack chuckled. "What do you mean you wouldn't know?"

His expression shifted to one a bit puzzled as you quietly revealed your personal secret.

"Well... I haven't exactly ‘finished’... ever."

A brief silence fell between you, the only sound being the TV's credits playing in the background.

"You haven't... had an orgasm? Ever?" Jack asked, genuinely surprised by your sudden confession.

"Well... I mean, kind of - at least I think I have, by myself... but I've just never reached that... climax point with someone else," you slowly exhaled as your eyes met Jack's, giving him a nervous glance.

"Are you serious, y/n?" The hockey player stared at you, utterly baffled, prompting you to gently nod in confirmation.

Jack couldn't help but feel a pang in his heart. How could that be the case?

"It's not as if I haven't had good sex before, Jack," you attempted to explain, trying to ease the tension that had softly developed. "I just haven't... you know, reached that point..."

"But yeah, that’s like the best part! I just don’t get it... Hasn't any guy ever taken his time to make sure you had the complete experience? To give you that satisfaction?" 

Your confession seemed to strike a chord with your friend, and though you weren't entirely certain why, it did provide a slight sense of reassurance.

For a while, you'd felt as though something might be wrong with you. Maybe you just couldn't reach climax during sex with someone else. However, Jack's reaction made you reconsider that notion. In a positive light.

"I suppose not..." you spoke gently, locking eyes with him. "There hasn't always been the time, you know... And every time, it seemed they were just aiming to please themselves."

But Jack wasn't willing to accept that. It didn't seem fair to you that you hadn't experienced the true pleasure of sex, if your partners hadn't taken the time to ensure your pleasure was as important as theirs.

And he could feel his mind racing as he pondered how to address this newfound information.

If Jack had to be completely honest, you weren’t just a good friend to him. You held a special place in his heart that went beyond mere friendship, even though there had never been anything romantic or sexual between you.

Truth be told, he had a little crush on you. 

Over time, he found you to be someone remarkable. You showed genuine care and support for him, whether it was on the side-line of games or a shoulder to lean on outside the hockey world. And you never asked for anything in return.

You didn’t boast to everyone about your friendship with an NHL hockey player or flaunt your closeness to his family. And your lack of interest in his fame and money was one of the many reasons why he admired you so much.

So, sitting there beside you, realising that you had been missing out on something so wonderful, made him consider whether perhaps he could be the one to introduce you to the pleasures of a fulfilling sexual experience.

However, he hesitated to voice his thoughts, unsure of how you might react. Yet, before he could gather his courage, you interrupted his train of thought.

"Are you okay, Jackie?"

"Yeah, I'm just thinking..."

"About?"

"Nothing... well, not exactly nothing..."

"You can tell me?"

Running his fingers through his hair, Jack took a moment to choose his words carefully, hoping not to alarm you. Then, he tenderly brushed the smooth skin on your cheek as his gaze fixated on your lips.

"I want to show..." he breathed softly, licking his lips almost seductively. "I want to show you just how amazing it can be..."

You were slightly taken aback. Did your best friend just propose that the two of you should have sex?

Yet, Jack's deep eyes revealed no falsehood. He seemed almost dead serious as his gaze met yours again, and you had to remind yourself to breathe.

Jack was without a doubt attractive. And maybe even more than just attractive. Truth be told, you understood precisely why so many girls were constantly swooning over him. He had an incredible charm. His laughter and smile could light up any room, and his hockey-built physique only added to his appeal.

But you'd never considered that he might be attracted to you. You were simply a long-time family friend he could turn to for comfort.

However, in that very moment, it seemed you might have a chance at being something a bit more.

"What?" you asked in disbelief. "I mean, what?"

And Jack gently nodded, his fingers tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

"Y/n, it pains me to think you've never experienced just how good sex can be, so yeah, I'd love to be the one to show you..."

In truth, there wasn't much to contemplate. Though he was your best friend, you didn’t want to overthink why he was expressing a desire to have sex with you. Perhaps it was simply because he felt bad that no one had ever made you feel that way. Nonetheless, it wasn't something you'd turn down.

So, with a gentle nod and a soft smile, you gave him your consent.

However, as he tenderly guided you to his bedroom and began to place delicate kisses on your neck while slowly undressing you, Jack felt the need for more reassurance. He wanted to be absolutely certain that you were completely comfortable with taking this step in your friendship.

"You're sure you want this?"

"Yes, Jack," you whispered softly, your palms delicately finding their way to his chest. 

And with a soft nod, his large hands then smoothly slid under the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head and revealing your bra to your best friend for the first time. It was an intimate moment, the closest Jack had ever been to you, his soft lips touching yours, while witnessing you in this vulnerable state. It felt incredible.

The atmosphere was serene and gentle as Jack dimmed the lights in his spacious bedroom, aiming to create the most relaxed setting for you. He even put on some soothing tunes in the background, something that always helped him unwind before a tense match.

An as you were left in just your underwear, Jack gently guided you to lie down on the bed. Though he knew you weren't entirely inexperienced nor a virgin, he wanted to ensure that both of you took the time necessary. Moreover, he had to manage his own excitement. This was about your needs, so he needed to ensure he wouldn’t reach climax too quickly.

Your eyes held a profound gaze as he slowly undressed himself to his boxers and joined you on the bed, his larger body hovering over yours before tenderly placing a soft kiss on your lips.

Your fingers instinctively found his semi-long locks, pulling him a bit closer, eager to deepen the kiss. But Jack pulled back slightly, reminding himself to maintain focus and take things slowly.

"Easy there... we have plenty of time," he whispered softly, redirecting his attention to your neck instead. He kissed, sucked, and nibbled gently on your sensitive skin, allowing you to relax into the comfortable sensations.

A wave of pleasure swept over you as Jack took his time to ease your nerves, allowing you to immerse yourself in the delightful feelings. Soft sighs mingled with light moans escaped your lips as his hand massaged your breast, teasing your nipple through the thin fabric before travelling down to your lacy panties. With gentle strokes, he caressed your warmth, while withdrawing his lips from your skin to observe your exquisite face, reflecting hints of pleasure under his touch.

Locking eyes with him, as his touch grew more intense, you desired more than just gentle caresses.

"Jack..." you breathed out. "Touch me, more."

And your wish was his command. 

His fingers slid under your bottoms, gliding through your folds before carefully finding your clit. Being mindful of his rough hockey fingers, he was careful as he circled your sensitive bud, causing more moans to escape your lips.

It was a sight to behold for Jack. Watching your eyes shut tightly, your expressions contorting in pleasure, as he increased his touch, he found it incredibly hot. 

"Is it good, baby?" Jack whispered softly; his voice tinged with seduction.

"Yes... Yes, Jack, it's so good," you managed to voice, overwhelmed by the pleasure his fingers were providing, surpassing anything you'd experienced alone.

Under his touch, it felt incredibly wonderful. Jack's fingers worked their magic, and while most guys might have grown impatient by now, he was still taking the time needed to bring you to that peak of pleasure. He was focused on leading you to that blissful climax, feeling a rush of desire as he watched you succumb to the overwhelming sensation.

Then as he felt your body both relaxed and tense with pleasure, Jack adjusted his position slightly. Although there was a fleeting disappointment as his fingers withdrew from your sensitive spot, it didn't last long, as he swiftly removed your panties and positioned himself on his knees between your legs. Then, his left thumb found your sensitive nub again, igniting that pleasurable sensation once more. You had to let your head sink back into the pillow, feeling an unfamiliar but incredible sensation building in your lower abdomen - a feeling beyond description.

Your hands gripped the pillow tightly on each side of your head, eyes closed, as gasps and moans escaped you.

And while observing your reaction, Jack sensed you were approaching that unfamiliar peak you longed for, so with his right hand, he gently found your entrance, teasingly poking with a finger.

"Still feeling good?"

"Yes," you panted. "Yes, Jack... Please," you almost felt embarrassed by your plea, but you were completely under his spell.

And the pleasure only intensified as Jack carefully inserted two digits into your tight core, stretching your walls, guiding you towards an unparalleled level of ecstasy.

"Jack... Fuck," you moaned louder as he withdrew his fingers only to push them back in, establishing a gentle rhythm alongside his circling thumb, delivering multiple waves of stimulation.

"Yeah, that's good, baby, just relax," he encouraged softly.

It was more than good - it was overwhelming. You had never experienced the sensation in your abdomen evolve into something so intense. It seemed to expand, flooding every vein with pleasure as the promise of an orgasm slowly took hold, clouding your mind.

And Jack felt your body's reaction to his touch, the walls of your core contracting around his fingers as you neared your long-awaited climax. So, adjusting his angle, he gently curled his fingers upwards, seeking that particularly sensitive spot. And as you let out a loud moan and arched your back, he knew he'd found it.

So, he persisted, hitting that spot repeatedly.

Your mind, body, and soul felt as though they were being torn apart in a rush of ecstasy, as Jack increased his speed, overstimulating you, and causing your juices to coat his fingers.

"Shit! Jack, I think I'm gonna..." you gasped, the sensations almost overwhelming you.

"That's it, baby, come for me! Let go and show me how good I'm making you feel."

And so, you did.

With a loud, deep moan originating from the depths of your abdomen, you surrendered yourself entirely, slipping into a euphoric state as the orgasm surged through your body, rendering your mind hazy and grey.

"Fuck," you cried out as Jack's movements gradually slowed down, and you had to take a few moments to regain control of your breath, slowly coming down from the intense high, as he withdrew his fingers.

Jack couldn't help but smile, thoroughly enjoying the sight beneath him. It almost felt to scoring an overtime goal as he observed how profoundly he could pleasure you, while you opened your eyes, locking gazes with him.

"Was it good?" he asked, a mischievous grin playing on his lips, although he already knew the answer.

"Well, can't really say no to that, can I?" you chuckled lightly, summoning the strength to prop yourself up on your elbows. "It was fucking amazing, Jack... thank you."

"No need to thank me... I just wanted to make sure you had the best experience," he replied, flashing you a charming smile that could easily sweep any girl off her feet.

"Well, I must admit, you really did," you returned his smile. "But what about you?"

Your eyes couldn't help but drift to the bulge that had unmistakably formed in his boxers, feeling an urge to reciprocate the pleasure somehow.

However, Jack simply let out a soft chuckle before leaning in, hovering over you, and planting a gentle kiss on your lips.

"We don't have to do anything about that right now..."

"Why not?" you looked at him, slightly perplexed. "Jack, I want you to feel good too."

"Are you sure ab—"

"Yes, Jack..." you interrupted, leaning towards him once more, this time deepening the kiss, conveying how much you desired him.

Pulling back slightly, he nodded. "Okay... just give me a moment."

With that, Jack rose from his position, undressing until he stood completely naked, unveiling his eagerly throbbing member. You couldn't help but gasp at the sight. It was long, hard, and slightly curved at the tip, yet perfect in its own right. It complemented Jack's physique, and you felt an intense sudden need to feel it inside you.

And fortunately, there wasn't much of a wait. 

Jack swiftly opened the condom packet from his bedside table, put it on, and smoothly went for the missionary position. He then positioned the tip of his cock at your entrance, before carefully pushing in.

Your hand quickly found its way to his hair again as he kissed you passionately, steadily rocking his hips back and forth, causing pleasurable sensations as he slid in and out of you. 

Whether it was Jack's perfectly shaped and fitted member or the intense orgasm from his earlier touch, you couldn't tell, but before long, you felt that new familiar sensation building up once more. 

And Jack found himself unable to hold back much longer. 

While it had been thrilling for him to witness your pleasure, he was now eager for his own release. 

And as you both sank into the mattress again, his hips meeting yours in a rhythmic pace, he felt himself nearing his climax. 

Your tightening walls spurred him on, and as he lost control, increasing his speed and force, your harmonising moans and heavy breaths filled the room. He was just about to reach the peak as you moaned loudly.

"Fuck Jack, I'm about to come again," you exclaimed.

His rhythm hit you just right, and you couldn't ignore the trembling in your legs as the high took over, succumbing to your second orgasm of the night.

"Yes, come with me…"

And after a few more thrusts, Jack reached his climax, releasing into the latex as both of you let out deep moans, riding the waves of pleasure.

"Shit..." you gasped, a tear trickling down your cheek, overwhelmed by the intense sensation.

"Yeah..." Jack agreed, breathing into the crook of your neck, as he carefully withdrew and settled beside you, pulling you close for a sweaty cuddle, his arm wrapping under your neck, and he turned his head to meet your gaze. 

"Are you alright?"

You couldn’t help but let out a light chuckle. 

"Yes, Jack, I'm more than alright... that was incredible," you smiled at the hockey player.

"You have no idea how happy that makes me... y/n, you deserved to experience that pleasure," he took your hand and tenderly kissed it.

"Thank you, Jack, you really made me feel amazing..."

With wide smiles on both your faces, Jack then headed to the bathroom to dispose of the condom. And returning with a damp cloth for you to freshen up, he then followed by tucking you in for a cuddle. This was important to him, a crucial part of the whole experience, especially because you were his best friend, and he wanted you to know this wasn't just a casual fuck.

He showed genuine care, and you felt more than content and satisfied in his embrace.